


the letter

by skybrushes



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: First Love, M/M, Pining, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybrushes/pseuds/skybrushes
Summary: the letters chris wrote are never far from callum’s mind and as he rereads the letter again, a certain mitchell interrupts his thoughts.set after monday’s episode (19/08/19) and is just basically my take on what’s going on in callum’s head.





	the letter

_“Dunno what I’d do without my H.” _

His fingers skimmed over the line as Chris’ words danced around in his head. It was past closing time and he should have locked up, been over at the Vic, waiting for Whitney to finish her shift, but here he was – sitting at his desk, his sleeves rolled up, reading and re-reading Chris’ letter, again and again and again.

It was the only letter he allowed himself to read; one had been enough to start stirring those emotions again, the feelings he desperately tried to lock away, the little section of his mind that only one other person had access to. He exhaled – his breath deep and long and focused, blowing away any thoughts of him. Leaning forward, he gripped onto the letter with both hands as he carried on reading, despite the words already being ingrained in his brain.

_“He always just knows the exact thing to say to make me feel better. And we have such a laugh.”_

A small smile played on Callum’s face, as the memories in the army flooded in. With Chris, it was easy to be who he was. He didn’t have to make a crude joke that would leave a bad taste in his mouth to get a roar of laughter out of the lads, or play up to his role as the joker, the clown, to fit in to the norm of his army mates. He could be himself around Chris, and that was it – it was enough. They would spend nights whispering amongst the snores of their comrades, discussing their favourite characters, their favourite team, their good memories, and the times that were tough, and Callum would never have to lie. Well, almost never.

Callum tried to ignore the face that came crashing into his mind when he reread Chris’ words, that there was someone else who in spite of their teasing and taunting, knew the exact things to say to make Callum feel better. There was someone else who could so easily read Callum, like Chris had, and that it should fill Callum with dread, but surprisingly had the opposite effect. Initially, the anxiety had consumed him but as time had progressed and things had cooled off between them, it had left Callum wanting more, that emptiness he had tried to bury opening and widening and spreading since.

He should have been enthralled in wedding planning, an equal to Whitney. He did try. He tried to distinguish between the different type of flowers, attempting to decide which one would best adorn the tables. He had tried to choose a shade of pink that would not only complement the cream cloths but his suit too. In the end, Whitney had decided on peonies and dusky pink.

His vows should have come so easy to him, the words running out of his head, straight onto the blank piece of paper. He should have easily been able to write at least a page as to why he loved his wife to be. Instead of choosing a bloody Ed Sheeran song. Picking a best man should have been one of the first decisions he made – second to asking Whitney to marry him, but the thought had never crossed his mind. All the details surrounding the wedding he should be aware of, but he wasn’t. When asked about anything, a confused expression would colour his face, as he would mentally kick himself for forgetting, but everyone would just laugh, brushing it off as Callum being a typical man.

And it had worked with Whitney for a while. There were some pointed looks when Callum would stare off into the distance when Whit would start discussing the wedding again, but he would plaster on an apologetic grin, and it seemingly was enough for Whitney to gloss over. That was until the day of Chris’ memorial where she rightfully questioned Callum’s loyalty. There was a minute part of him that wanted to call it off right there and then, to run away from it all, but then he had opened up slightly to Whitney, the truth still concealed by white lies. Her face had softened, a comforting touch, reassuring words soothing him, and he knew he loved her – sure, it was a different love to what he felt for Chris, but it was still love, and that’s all that was needed for marriage, he had convinced himself.

His phone buzzed and his heart rate increased slightly, it was irrational to think it would be him but he had hope. That hope deflated when his brother’s name was displayed on the screen. _I understand_, the message read. Guilt re-emerged within him as he placed his phone to the side, shaking his head as he carried on reading the letter.

_ “He don’t even know how good he is. It’s like he expects the world to be as innocent and good as he is, and just being a nice person comes so natural to him.”_

He was so wrong. Lately, it seemed like everything Callum was doing was wrong. Stuart had been good to him, he always had, especially when it came to their father. But he couldn’t ask him to be his best man, not after what he had done to the people he cared about – Tina, Mick, Linda, _Ben_. Callum could have done more, should have done more, after what Stuart did to Ben, but the apology never seemed to leave his lips, a meaningless gesture. He wanted to bridge close the distance between them, and he had tried once but failed – typical. He had assured himself that staying away was a good idea, he could focus on Whitney and the wedding, but there were always fleeting moments where he wanted to reach out. After he had attended the memorial, his fingers had inched to Ben’s number, knowing he’d be the only one to understand. But he didn’t want to trouble him, or send the wrong message and he knew Ben would come, but he couldn’t drag Ben through his mess, not when he was preoccupied with his own family.

Callum didn’t feel innocent, or good, or nice, not when he had these thoughts. Chris had been so wrong about him.

_“He’s a good mate well, more than a mate.”_

More than a mate. These words were the ones that were constantly ringing in his mind, reverberating throughout his body, ticking in time with his heartbeat. When Ben had bustled in the funeral parlour, demanding to know where Jay was, Callum was reminded of Chris’ statement, and his own words that he confided in Stuart. _He ain’t just a mate _intertwining with Chris’ melody currently playing in his veins. Although Ben had rushed out, not even a second thought for Callum, the undertaker yearned for him, the desire to follow him pounding throughout him. Briefly, he had looked back, his fingers curling around the arm of his chair, and had seen the look in Stuart’s eyes; it had anchored Callum to his seat, succumbing to his weaknesses.

He had dismissed Ben as his friend at first, but then everything had started to turn hazy after the night of his flat warming party, and their relationship had definitely changed after the night of the park. So, Callum had tried to label it as just friends, even though the words were foreign on his tongue, but it was easier to leave it at that. He felt stupid, that he had a sliver of hope that his brother would understand, when he had let his guard down, his confession not well-received. Unlike Chris, who was able to freely tell his sister about him, without having to lie, and envy had risen within Callum at a relationship that he could never imagine with his brother.

Callum wished he was brave, brave enough to accept his feelings, to be true to everyone, but especially to himself. Although, Callum suspected that Ben probably wouldn’t class Callum as his mate, never mind more than that, he wished he was brave enough to reach out. And, it may be an unfair thought, considering Chris never did for Callum’s sake, but Callum wished that Chris had told him what he felt, for things may have been different.

After Callum attempted to dry the tear stain left on the last sentence of the letter, he folded it away, tucking it back into the pocket of his suit, close to his heart. As he left the room and finally locked up, he warned the wishes away from his head, evaporating the traces of Chris and Ben. Stepping outside the parlour, he had to greet reality – though the welcome was far from with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> the letter chris wrote callum broke me and i wish we saw more of callum’s reaction. so this was inspired by that! x


End file.
